Holly, Ivy, Mistletoe
by PhoenixFire Lia
Summary: "I suppose we never really lost that Christmas spirit those years after the war. We must have merely misplaced it among the rubble of ruined childhoods and mobile suits. That’s what Christmas is about, new beginnings and second chances."
1. Holly

Holly, Ivy, Mistletoe

A little holiday piece, as is standard tradition with me. It'll probably be one of those high on the Kleenex things, but then again, I never know how my own stories will turn out until I've finished them. 

_Disclaimer: The meek shall inherit the earth, but I shall never inherit Gundam Wing._

_Warnings: Shounen-ai in the form of 3x4 and 2x1. Hetero in the shape of 5xS and 6x9. Duo's perspective. Post Endless Waltz. _

            I hate Christmas. Isn't it an awful thing to say? How could anyone hate Christmas? I do, though. Not the actual holiday or the message of hope and peace that it brings every bleak December, but the fact that a war in which so many lives were lost had to end on that hallowed day. It's a fitting tribute, I suppose, that a long and arduous war should end the day the Christ Child was born. But from the eyes of someone who fought in that very war, I can't say that I find anything comforting in it. Not when all of my comrades walk about the streets this time of year with tears in their eyes and hardened hearts. No, I can't bring myself to find any joy in Christmas anymore. 

            I don't know if I ever found real peace in the holiday season. It was always hard on us when I lived in the streets with the other orphans. The gifts we exchanged were things we stole or found in trash heaps. I remember one year Solo, my brother in spirit if not in flesh, had managed to take a box of candy canes. He'd broken them into chunks and given a piece to every one of us. 

            "It'll be better someday, Duo," he'd told me. "Someday we won't have to live like this, and we'll have real Christmas. Promise."

But Solo couldn't keep his promise. He died from scarlet fever three months later, and I was sent to live in the Maxwell church. I think that was when I first realized that Christmas was something happy. Sitting in the choir loft, watching Mr. Kelley the organist play carols on the huge pipe organ while the whole of the church lit up like the stars, that was one of my better years. Before the massacre. Before some bastards took away the only family I ever really had. Before Shinigami, before Deathscythe and OZ and the Eve Wars. 

            God knows I've tried to be more optimistic about the whole season, I mean, I'm alive, isn't that cause for celebration? But I just can't. Not when I see how depressed the others get. And it doesn't help that Relena, Miss High-and-Mighty Vice-Foreign Minister, hauls our asses out into the freezing cold to stand on some godforsaken platform so she can prattle on about peace and the anniversary of the war. I know she tries, but she just doesn't understand the severity. Nobody does. So when I walk by stores and see women fighting over Chicken Dance Elmo or something absolutely ridiculous, like they always do about this time of the year, I have the incredible urge to run up to them and scream, "Hey! I'm Duo Maxwell! I saved your lousy asses and all you can do is worry about a jiving Muppet! Give a damn, why don't you?" But I don't. 

            Perhaps this year will be different, though. It's AC 200, the start of a brand new century, and maybe new starts for us wayward warriors as well. I think this will be the year that Christmas will mean something more to the lot of us than the day we finally quashed a rebellion, or the day some sort of quasi-peace was attained. If I can pull it off, if I can make this year be a Kodak Moment Christmas, then maybe everyone won't be so miserable. It would be nice, you know? If I could get the others to forget, at least for one day, how awful our lives really are. Especially Heero. Heero needs this more than anyone. 

            I live with Hilde, have since before the war ended, in a cute little apartment not far from the junkyard we spend our days in. No, we're not dating, not really. We're more brother and sister than anything, and I love her to pieces. She never comes home at night without a smile, and is never too tired to cook us something we can eat while curled up together on the couch watching old television shows. She likes Christmas still, and she puts up a little fake tree every year, one of those color-change fiber optic deals. I wouldn't care if it was a coat hanger with tinsel on it. 

            "Duo babe, what're you in the mood for?" she asked me while I was sprawled out on the floor, in a pair of polar bear pajama bottoms and a blue wifebeater, reading the newspaper. I glanced up at her, watching as she went from cupboard to cupboard, trying her damnedest to find something worth cooking. 

            "Why don't we just order out Chinese tonight, Hilde babe?" I replied. "Uh, while we're talking, I was wondering…what do you think about having a real, authentic, Martha Stewart kind of Christmas this year, Hilde? Get everybody together and do the whole ten yards, the big dinner, the presents, all of that yuletide shit."

            Now, I'm starting to wonder if Hilde will (A) ask me if I'm on crack and remind me that Gundam Pilots and Christmas go together about as well as spoons and microwaves, or (B) hug me like a boa constrictor and whip out the Yellow Pages for the name of a good caterer. Actually, Hilde went with (C) none of the above. 

            "Do you want pork-fried rice or the noodle thing?"

If this were one of Heero's little Japanese cartoons, I'd fall over so only my twitching feet were visible, with a big sweatdrop hanging over me. But it's not, sadly. 

            "Both. Seriously, Hilde. Do you really think they'd go for it if I _did _do a holiday thing for all of us? Get us all together and have a traditional Christmas like normal people have?"

She ruffled her short blue-black hair. "Jeez, I don't know, Duo. Christmas is a touchy subject for most of them. And besides, even if we _did _manage to have this little party of yours, where would we do it? Not here, this apartment's not even big enough for you and me."

I rose, stretched, cracked knuckles and neck and arms with the loudest, most disgusting noises humanly possible, and replied, "Well, then we'll have to talk Quatre into it and get him to hold it at his house. You could fit a couple of mobile suits in there."

             Hilde went off to accomplish her little tasks, and I mine. I think it would be remiss of me if I didn't mention the whereabouts of my comrades at this point, though their lives are hardly exciting. I suppose that's what comes from peace, boring jobs and long speeches about maintaining said peace. 

            The one person I can always count on for never changing is Wufei. It's just speculation, but I think he's managed to make his work at Preventers feel like the missions we went on as pilots, thus maintaining his adequacy as a soldier. I know that was his biggest hang-up after the rebellion ended, finding some purpose in his life since piloting Gundams was not an option. He's done pretty well for himself, especially since he and the good doctor Po are getting married this spring. For all the fighting those two do, they'll make one hell of a couple. 

            Quatre relinquished his power at Winner Enterprises International, turning the company holdings over to his sister Madiha. He now works within the company as the humanitarian department chair, overseeing projects bettering communities and being a positive influence on life. He's happy in his job, but he's become somewhat depressed and reclusive. The happy, innocent Quatre we all once knew went into hiding some time ago, and not even the best of us can coax him out. 

            Part of that may have come from Trowa's unfortunate accident. It happened last Christmastime, about a week before the twenty-fifth. Trowa was asked to do the high-wire act for his troupe, even though he'd somewhat retired from circus life. Not able to tell his sister no, he went ahead and did what would be his last performance in more ways than one. The wire broke after he'd gotten about halfway across, and Trowa had been working without a net. He mangled his left leg, so much so that it's in a brace now and it will remain that way. It's disturbing to see him like that, when all you can think about is how this was the guy who could do a triple backflip from the back of a moving motorcycle. Quatre took him in after the accident, I think more as a comfort for himself than for Trowa, who's since taken up painting and has become quite a success. I know more than a few galleries are now carrying Trowa Barton originals. There's rumors that this will be the year one of them proposes to the other, but the both of them are so screwed emotionally now that I doubt it'll ever happen. 

            As for Heero, I don't see much of him. He shows up for the formal functions Relena holds, stays for the speech, and then leaves without saying a word. I couldn't tell you what he's doing or where he is, because I don't know. And to think that I'm his best friend. God, it kills me that I see him once a year, twice if I get lucky, and every time I see him he looks a little more weary, a little more somber. He's lost some of that steel, but gained this aura of sorrow. I worry that one of these days he's just going to disappear forever, and I'll never get the chance to tell him that I've been in love with him since the day I busted him out of that Alliance hospital. 

            So that's us, the five Gundam Pilots, the five most mentally unstable young men you'll find in the Earth Sphere. This mentally unstable pilot is off to make his phone call, see if I can't coerce Quatre into cooperating with me. It wasn't until I'd hit the speed-dial marked "Barton/Winner" that I remembered the video screen on the phone still wasn't working. A pair of mechanics living together in one apartment, and the screen for the phone isn't working still, I'm amazed at how pathetic that sounds. 

            _"Quatre Winner's office, Trowa Barton speaking."_

            "Is this the price you have to pay for living with that little upstart? Being his personal secretary?" I asked wryly, twisting the phone cord in my fingers. Trowa might have chuckled, but probably not. 

            _"Hello, Duo. Video screen still not working?"_

            "Nope. And Howard wants no part of fixing anything. I think he's moved to Hawaii to chase bikini babes for the rest of his life or something. Quatre around?"

            _"Doubt it. I think he had a meeting this morning, but knowing Quatre's meetings, he'll probably be there for another three hours. Anything I can help you with?"_

I suppose Trowa is a reasonable substitute, after all, it's his house too. 

            "Maybe. I had this idea, and…"

            _"Duo, the last time you had an idea Wufei needed stitches as a result."_

            "Very funny, Trowa. At least you haven't lost your skill for witty repartee. I was thinking about having a little Christmas get-together for all of us, nothing to do with the war or anything made with gundanium, just the lot of us having a normal, civilian-style Christmas. Only problem is, we couldn't do it at my place, since Hilde and I are cramped in here as it is."

            _"So you wanted to do it here instead and you wanted Quatre's permission?" _Trowa speculated. 

            "Well, yeah."

Trowa sighed, one of those sighs that makes you cringe because you know whatever he's about to say next can't be good. I can almost picture him, sitting in Quatre's leather chair, wearing paint-splotched clothes, maybe there's an interesting shade of purple streaked in his hair or across his cheek. _"Duo, I don't think it'll work. You know how we all feel about Christmas. I think this would just upset people more."_

            "No, see, that's why I want to do this, Trowa! Contrary to popular belief, Christmas is a time for celebration and joy, and I want us to have that. You have to admit, it'd be nice, not having to huck on over to Neo-Sanq in some itchy tuxedo and listen to Relena's annual Peace to the Earth Sphere preaching. We can just hang out at your place, exchange gifts, do a big dinner, spend time as a family."

            _"Well…I don't know. It's Quatre's decision, I'll leave this up to him," _Trowa stated, his resolve starting to break. _"But I think that you might have my vote of confidence after all."_

            "Thanks, Trowa. I'll catch you later."

I had a sliver of hope. I had the support of one, and hopefully that would be enough to get the support of the others. And if it isn't, then I'll still have Trowa. He and I could always blow off Relena's thing and get some Christmas coffee instead, spend time, reconnect. Even that sounded appealing. 

            "Duo! Come and get your wontons before they get cold! And I picked up that new part for the phone, I'll install it after we eat, so everybody can see your ugly mug next time they call!" Hilde's voice rang out. 

            Quatre called about ten minutes after Hilde fixed the phone. It always amazes me at how old he's starting to look. I mean, I know he's twenty, so of course he's going to look older, but really. Quatre's lost that baby-faced cherubic look and gained some pretty hard lines. He's still absolutely beautiful, though. 

            _"You have my support, Duo. And if nobody else is willing, you and Hilde can still come over and it'll just be the four of us. I agree with you, I think it's futile for us to be so depressed this time of year, we stopped fighting a long time ago, and we need to keep that in mind. I know it's sounding a little hypocritical, coming from the reclusive Quatre Winner, but I think you're making a good point and I think this was the kick in the ass I needed. Thanks, Duo."_

            "Are you sure it was me and not Trowa who changed your mind?" 

He laughed. _"I'm sure. How about this? I have more than enough room here, why doesn't everybody stay for a few days right before Christmas? Spend time with each other beforehand, reacquaint ourselves with one another? And then we can have a big family Christmas like you want."_

"It's a great idea, Quatre. I'll do all the calling, if you can put everything together at your end. And I'll give you whatever cash you need for this, I don't want you going out of your way to put this together."

            _"No! You're not giving me one nickel, Duo Maxwell! I wouldn't dream of taking your money. I can supply everything myself, don't worry. You just convince everyone…and I mean _everyone _into getting together for this. I'll take care of everything else. Don't forget, I'm the one with tactics training."_

This was going to work after all. I had Quatre's espousal and his wallet backing me up. And the support of Quatre Winner was like a golden ticket; nobody can refuse Quatre. It's scientifically proven. And I was going to make sure that every last person we affiliated with during the war came to this thing, from Heero right on down to Dorothy, Lady Une, and Mariemaia. 

            "Hilde!" hollered I as she walked past with the laundry basket. "Hilde! We're having Christmas! We're going to have Christmas after all!"

She dropped the basket and let out a mighty whoop of exultation. For someone so small, Hilde has one hell of a voice on her. We were dancing in the hallway, treading all over the freshly cleaned laundry, singing carols at the top of our lungs until the neighbors started complaining. It was officially Christmas. 

_The next part of the story will be up probably tomorrow, and possibly a third part Christmas Eve. And don't worry, there will be some holiday romancing for the lonely little Gundam Pilots, that'll come in due time. _

_Next Time: Duo's plans come to fruition, Quatre has problems with the Christmas Tree, and Dorothy nearly sets the house on fire with a pyrotechnic pudding. _


	2. Ivy

Disclaimer: And the shepherds heard a multitude of angels on high declare, "Kawaii Li'l Lia shall never own Gundam Wing."

_Last Time: Duo proposed a holiday celebration and managed to get Quatre and Trowa to pool resources…and let Duo use the Winner mansion. _

For the next two weeks, the phone became an extension of my body. I took a hiatus from the yard so that my plans could come to fruition. It took me most of that time just to find and call everyone, but the results were better than I'd expected. Though not everyone was planning on staying for the few days before, everyone I'd called was planning on attending Christmas Day at least. I was definitely surprised at such a positive response, Wufei being the only negation and even then, Sally told me that he was just being a stubborn jackass and would be coming anyways. Howard was the only one I couldn't get in touch with…other than Heero, that is. It wasn't until two days before Quatre's proposed date that Relena called with his number. I swear, that girl has the determination of a bloodhound when it comes to finding Heero. 

            She told me he was living in Kyoto, though why, she had no answers for. I knew reaching him would be a shot in the dark, because of the time difference, but I decided that Heero was worth the shot. 

            _"I'm not home, leave a message." _

Did I ever mention that I hate answering machines? Well, I do. Especially Heero's. 

            "Uh, hey Heero, it's Duo. I know this is kind of weird, me calling you out of the blue and all, but I've been trying to get in touch with you for a while now and Relena just gave me your number. Bet you knew she'd be the one to find you when none of us could. Anyway, I'm calling to see if you had any inclination to joining us…the other pilots and me…for a Christmas get-together at Quatre's. So, um, if you happen to get this message, call me, or Quatre, or even Trowa for that matter. We'd really like to see you, Heero. Quatre's kind of counting on your being there so…"

He picked up mid-prattle, the video screen flicking on. In the four years since we've parted ways, Heero has grown more handsome than ever. His hair is still pretty unruly, but it's seemed to tame, just a little. And he has glasses now, gunmetal gray wire-rimmed ones that make the harsh blue of his eyes less steely. He's really quite beautiful, and I found it hard not to jump the monitor. 

            _"Duo." _Oh God, his voice was like a choir of angels. I've missed hearing that voice, even if it was uttering death threats or screaming hoarse battle cries. 

            "Heero! God, you look great! How've you been?"

            _"Well enough, I guess. Working as the vice president of a technological firm in Kyoto now. You?"_

            "Still at Maxwell-Schbeiker Inc. hauling old mobile suit parts. So, um, what do you think about the Christmas thing? I mean, no pressure or anything, but I guarantee there will be no mention of anything associated with the word Gundam."

            _"Hn. Who's coming to it?" _he asked. Heero sounds so far away to me, but his voice hasn't lost that cool temperance that always kept us from getting too cocky on the battlefield. 

            "Everyone, literally everyone. I mean, not everybody's going to be staying there. I think it'll just be the five of us, plus Hilde, Sally, Zechs and Noin. Maybe Dorothy, she's getting back to us on that. Other than that, everyone else is coming Christmas Day for dinner. You know, Une, Relena and the like. Sylvia Noventa is even dropping in."

            _"And you said Quatre wants me there."_

            "I've never seen him this happy before, Heero," I admitted. "Trowa's even looking forward to this. I think he's been working his ass off on a painting that he wants to show off. And you know Hilde, she's been cooking like she's preparing for Judgment Day. We'd all really like to see you, Heero. We miss you…I…miss you."

He sighed, this one declaring that he was seriously deliberating the offer. _"When are you going over there?"_

"The twenty-first, thereabout. Quatre said he's putting us all up in his place, no problem."

            _"Then tell him I'll see him in two days."_

            As I hung up the phone, Hilde began blasting music from the kitchen stereo. Ironically enough, it was Handel's Messiah, the Hallelujah Chorus. I slid out into the room in my stocking feet, trumpeting along with the singers. Hilde laughed, poking me with a wooden spoon as she started in on yet another batch of Schbeiker Family Recipe Christmas Cookies. 

            "What are you so excited about? What glad tidings have you, angel boy?"

            "Heero! He's going to come! Don't know how I managed to pull it off, but I got Heero to come! Oh man, I've got to tell Quatre. He's going to be so psyched, this is going to be the best Christmas in the history of Christmases."

And as I skipped merrily off, Hilde just stared happily, hallelujahs reverberating down the hallway and throughout our little apartment. 

            "It took four years, but they're finally all going to be happy again. Whoever in heaven is responsible for this, thanks a heap."

             When we got to Quatre's two days later, the bigwigs in charge of L4's weather patterns decided to run a light snow sequence. I don't think anybody really minded that the snow wasn't entirely real, it was the fact that snow was in the air and Christmas was merely days away. I'm not sure how Hilde managed to get all of her cooking past the security checkpoint at the shuttle station, or how we got all of our luggage on the shuttle. I suppose it's the power and precedence that comes with being a former Gundam Pilot. 

            Trowa answered the door. He doesn't look all that bad, considering he's still recovering from a near-death incident. It's still unnerving to see him wearing baggy pants, since all we saw him in for years were those skintight jeans of his. But other than some visible scars on his face and the obvious bulk of his leg brace, he's still the same old Trowa Barton. 

            "Hey guys, glad you could come. Quatre's in the other room, wrestling with the tree…Hilde, what is all of that?"

My petite counterpart grinned wildly. "Christmas cookies courtesy of Grandmamma Schbeiker's recipe book. The only thing this little OZ defect inherited."

Trowa nodded and we followed him into the house, tossing our jackets on a coat rack by the door and setting our luggage down next to it. Trowa shuffled his way towards the living room. 

            "Quatre, Duo and Hilde are here," he stated in that dark baritone of his. 

Quatre, at that moment, was tilting precariously on a small wooden stool, trying to string the lights into the branches of his immense Christmas tree…I swear, it's at least eight feet tall. Pine needles were stuck in his hair and he did not look amused in the least bit. 

            "Not now, Trowa!" he chided. "Why do they keep blinking? They're not supposed to blink! Stop blinking!"

Dorothy sat on a little loveseat across from the tree, watching with wry amusement as her former enemy had a Zero System relapse over Christmas tree lights. "Do you want another string, Quatre? You have about seventeen over there."

            "And none of them work, Dorothy."

Hilde wandered around the foyer in amazement. I don't know if she's ever been inside of the place, I don't think it's all that spectacular. Maybe it's because Quatre decorated it, so it has this homey, country living feel to it, rather than the grandiose Martha Stewart mansion I'm sure Hilde was expecting. It's very earthy, calm and peaceful, like the two of them, actually. I'm sure if it were his sisters living here, the house would have zebra print couch cushions and bright red floor rugs and stuff like that. 

            "Are you coming in, or would you rather just stand there?" Trowa asked, leaning against the doorframe. Hilde scampered in and sat down next to Dorothy, while I took my good sweet time, moseying on over to Trowa and leaning on the opposite side of the door. 

            "So…things have been good?" I asked casually. 

            "Yeah, Quatre's got until New Years' off, I've got a showing coming up, and I guess Catherine's got herself a boyfriend," he replied. "And oddly enough, out of all the people she could be dating, it's Abdul."

            "No way! Abdul the Maguanac Abdul? That's crazy."

Trowa nodded. "And apparently Zechs and Noin won't be coming after all, since Noin's in the hospital."

            "Hospital? She okay?"

Quatre leaned over far enough so he could be seen. "Better than okay! She's having her baby!"

Hilde gasped. "A baby? Omigosh, I love babies! And with parents like Zechs Merquise and Lucrezia Noin, that kid will be gorgeous."

            The doorbell rang at that point, and I went to answer it, saving Trowa yet another slow and painful limp to the door. He hobbled his way to the nearest chair and flopped into it, watching Quatre as the little blonde continued to grapple with the lights. It was Wufei and Sally, the former scowling at the snowflakes and muttering something about the injustice of winter. That's Wufei for you. 

            "Merry Christmas, Duo," Sally remarked jovially. "I hope we aren't past the 'fashionably late' mark, Lady Une kept us doing paperwork right up until about five minutes before our flight."

            "Nah, we just got here ourselves, Heero hasn't even shown yet, and your Preventer pals Zechs and Noin bailed at the last minute. Guess Noin's having herself a Christmas baby."

Sally's eyes went wide. "Noin's having the baby! Outta the way, I've got a call to make! She's not supposed to be due for another three weeks…if she forgets to name it after me I swear I will personally go out there and dispense some serious Sally Po justice…"

Wufei just shook his head as his fiancé plowed her way into the house. "Damn onna."

            "But she's _your _damn onna, Wufei. What've you been up to? You look pretty good for somebody who's still running around saving our little civilian asses."

            "Hmph, it's a living. So Heero's not here."

I shook my head, trying hard not to whip Wufei with my braid. The last thing I need is for him to get all pissed off and scream "Maxwell! Kisama!" 

            "Not yet. But he told me he was planning on coming, so…"

Wufei frowned. "You probably should've gotten it in writing. Knowing Heero, he's probably off blowing something up right about now."

            "Or he's standing right behind you, wondering when you're going to get the hell out of the way because it's damn cold out," Heero retorted, staring dubiously at the front door and the two of us. It took all of my restraint not to fly at him and crush him in a monster hug. Now was not really the time for that. 

            "So you made it after all, Yuy. You'll be glad to know your old friend Zechs isn't here and won't be coming, although I can't say much about Relena," Wufei stated dryly. 

            "Hn. Duo," he stated with a nod, glaring impatiently at Wufei from over the top of his glasses. "Any day now, Chang."

            "Shut up, Yuy. Nataku, you go away for years and come back the same unjust jackass you've always been."

Heero grinned, actually grinned, and not his blowing-up-your-mobile-suit-OZ-sucka grin. "I could say the same for you, Wufei."

Wufei grumbled about injustice and finally went inside, tossing his luggage and wandering into the other room to sit with everyone else. Heero and I just stood there staring at each other for a few minutes.  

            "Hn. You look good, Duo. Lose weight?"

            "Nah, just haven't gained any. I swear Hilde's been sneaking healthy food in with my snacks. Wouldn't be surprised if I've been really eating carob and soy for the past couple of years without even knowing."

He chuckled quietly. "Right. What's with Trowa? I expected him to be around. Is he here or what?"

            "Yeah, he's here, probably just hanging out on the couch. I don't think he can stay in an upright position for too long, too much strain, ya know."

Heero shot me a confounded expression. "What do you mean?"

            "Oh…that's right, you were gone by then. Trowa fell off the high-wire last year, killed his leg. It's been reinforced with gundanium and put in a metal brace, but it's still too disfigured to be of a whole lot of use. Quatre took it harder than he did."

            "Have they gone out with each other yet?"

            "Hardly. They call dates folding the laundry or taking Trowa to physical therapy. I don't think they've had a real date since maybe just after we took out Dekim. I don't know if they ever will…even though we all know how mad in love they are."

            "There's still time. Maybe God will be willing to pass out a few Christmas miracles for us. After all, we did prevent an early Armageddon, didn't we?"

I nodded, not without a small frown. "You've changed, Heero. A lot."

            "We all change, Duo. I've just changed for the better. The time I've spent away I've used to heal, emotionally, physically. You're different too, not as…hyper."

            "I'm saving up for Wednesday," I stated, quirking my eyebrows. "Just kidding. Actually, I've never really been all that hyper. Used it as a front to hide my insecurities during the war. Now that that's over, well…as Herman Melville said, 'all visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks.'"

            "_Moby Dick, _not bad. Let's get inside, I could use some coffee and about two days of sleep."

            Sally and Dorothy were in the kitchen making coffee by the time Heero and I got in, while Trowa and Wufei watched as Hilde performed miracles on Quatre's lights. Somehow she got them to cease their annoying blinking, and now the snakelike coil of twinkling white lights were allowing their diminutive masters to string them docilely along the fragrant piney branches. Victoria's Secret boxes full of delicate glass ornaments lay open on the floor, at the ready to be carefully distributed to every bough. 

            "Hello, Heero. Glad you could make it out here," Trowa said casually, his bad leg propped up with a sumptuous-looking silk throw pillow. 

Sally came in with a tray laden with coffee mugs, setting it down on the table. "Oh, Heero! I didn't see you come in. Merry Christmas. And, everyone, you'll be happy to know that Noin is doing fine, no baby yet, but he's on the way."

            "That's great, Sally!" Quatre remarked from his stepstool, trying to affix the angel to the top of the tree without falling into the branches. "Trowa, I'd ask you to help me, but you look too comfortable so…"

I offered my services, taking up the little angel and the stepstool, the angel being the tree ornament, of course. Quatre would kill me if I made any sort of comparison between him and some heavenly being. Although I have to admit, his angel bears a fair resemblance to him. 

            It was about this time that Dorothy came in with a large porcelain ramekin and one of those flame guns that were popular in the twentieth century of the AD calendar. She set the ramekin down on the coffee table with a flourish, displaying a large and very rich-looking plum pudding. 

            "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the time-honored tradition shared among my family for generations, the Christmas plum pudding. It is a longstanding ritual in our family to serve the pudding _a flambé_, and so…" Dorothy clicked the gun, setting the flame close to the dessert. The brandy in the pudding ignited, but unfortunately, so did the rest of the pudding. I watched in horror from the stool as Dorothy's dessert went up in flames, flames that spread onto the coffee table. Quatre let out a horrified yelp, running for the fire extinguisher. The smoke alarms in the house were going off by now, and the whole living room had dissolved into chaos. Heero whipped off his sweater and started beating the flames out until Quatre could come in and douse the whole thing with foam. 

            "Well," Trowa stated dryly, scrutinizing the smoldering remains of the coffee table and the plum pudding, "I suppose if we put a little custard and some whipped cream on it, it'll taste just fine. Hm?"

Dorothy laughed nervously. "I'm so sorry, Quatre, I'll buy you a new coffee table as soon as possible. And a new sweater for you, Heero."

            "It's quite all right, Dorothy. I never really liked that one anyway. Too dark for the room. Besides, we'll always remember this as the Christmas Dorothy's pudding _a flambé _turned out more flambéed than we thought."

            "I've got six other sweaters just like it, Relena always manages to give me the same one in a different color every major holiday. Don't worry about it," Heero added. 

I didn't mind one bit that Heero was now sitting there in just jeans and a white wifebeater. And with his glasses perched on the very tip of his nose, he looked absolutely incredible. Like something out of a smutty Abercrombie & Fitch catalogue. 

            "Okay, since we won't be having plum pudding, how about I put another pot of coffee on and break out a tray of gingerbread men?" Hilde suggested. "Maybe we should try those _a flambé?_"

The others let out a resounding negation before breaking into peals of laughter. I just stood there smiling, overwhelmed and overjoyed at the success of my little holiday party. We'd barely been together again for a day, and everyone's spirits were already lighter. I may be changing my mind about Christmas after all.  

That's it for today. Don't worry, though, there's always tomorrow for dreams to come true, believe in your dreams, come what may…God love those Rankin-Bass animated specials. 

Next Time: Luminaries, presents, a bigger ham than Duo, and mistletoe for one and all. I still think mistletoe sounds like some sort of disease. 


	3. Mistletoe

Feliz Navidad, Joyeaux Noel, Meri Kurisumasu and welcome back. I hope all of you are having a wonderful holiday, and I'm glad I could be part of it. 

_Last Time: The five pilots are back together again, though not all of them are as Duo remembers them. And Dorothy Catalonia torched a coffee table with a plum pudding that was a little too flambéed. _

The next few days sped by in a whirlwind rush, until at long last, it was Christmas Eve. It was really nice, we all just kind of hung out and lazed about during the day, catching up on old news and new business. Last night we had a massive game of Scrabble, and somehow, by the logics of Scrabble, the quiet ones always won. 

            "Quatre, 'Maguanac' is not a Scrabble word. Take that off of there!" 

            "You let Duo put 'Shinigami' on it," he protested. 

I glared at him from over the notepad we were keeping score on. "Only because Trowa's put 'Nanashi' down on there for the past six games."

Trowa shrugged at all of us innocently. "No one said I couldn't."

Dorothy dropped her letters in exasperation. "So that's how you've won, you little bastard."

            "In all fairness, Heero put down several terms not in the Scrabble dictionary either," Hilde observed. 

            "Actually, they _were _in there, Hilde. While we were all boxed up on Fortress Barge, I kept myself entertained by reading the Scrabble dictionary," he replied nonchalantly.

Wufei glared at him. "Hold it, Yuy. Maxwell and I almost _died _in that damn fortress and rather than you coming up with an escape plan for us, you were reading the _Scrabble dictionary?!" _

He nodded. "I figured Trowa would be the one to come up with a plan. After all, he was the double agent. I was just staying out of his way so he could accomplish his mission."

            No Scrabble games are scheduled for tonight, thankfully. It had ended that we gave Sally the win, and Wufei chased Heero throughout the mansion, the both of them hollering at each other in Asian tongues. What languages, I couldn't tell you. It all sounded like hissing to me. Actually, tonight we're going into town, they're doing a Christmas luminary stroll. I'm kind of excited, it seems like a really fitting way to spend the night before Christmas, when not all of us are even Christian. Now that I think about it, I'll have to look for a church while I'm in town. I'd kind of like to attend a Christmas mass, just for old times, for Father Maxwell and Sister Helen. 

            I think the greatest luxury of living with Quatre, at least for a little while, is plenty of hot running water. At home with Hilde, there's barely any hot water for us to shower with, and with my hair, I need all the hot water I can get. But with Quatre, I've been able to take nice long, hot showers without worrying about using up all the hot water. And Quatre stocks his bathrooms with good quality shampoo, something I don't see much of either. Hilde and I usually buy bargain brand baby shampoo for the two of us to share. 

            Anyway, by the time I finished my shower and got dressed for the occasion, it was just about time for us to be heading out the door, and I still hadn't braided my hair. There wasn't going to be time for me to get it up and get out the door, so I bolted with it unbound and still slightly wet. 

            "Duo." Heero came around the corner, in the same state of slight disarray I was. "I'll braid your hair, if you want."

            "Really? Oh man, thanks a ton, Heero."

            "Heero! Duo! We're leaving!" Hilde called from downstairs. "Are you coming or what?"

            "You guys go on ahead, we'll meet you there. Don't have too much fun without us!" I replied before running into my room for a brush and an elastic. Heero followed, instructing me to sit on the edge of the bed while he brushed out my now tangling hair. 

            "I didn't think you knew how to do this. Braiding hair doesn't seem to be high on the military training and espionage priority list," I observed. Heero shrugged. 

            "I've watched you do it enough times. Sorry if it turns out badly."

            "Hey, it'd be worse if I did it in a rush. I just don't like going out of the house without my hair braided, you know? It's like my biggest peeve."

He nodded, carefully and meticulously plaiting. "You look good with it down, though. Should try leaving it down more often."

I started blushing, but damned if Heero noticed. Besides, I couldn't tell if he was hitting on me or just complimenting. Either way, it was a very un-Heero-like thing to do. I'm starting to like this Heero better than the Heero that's shot me, punched me, and tried to blow me up on several occasions. 

            "Done."

Out of my own vanity, I stole a quick glance in the mirror, but that quick glance wasn't enough. Heero had done a better job than I ever could, perhaps even better than my dear Sister Helen, who'd been the first to ever braid my hair. Such a small, insignificant seeming task endeared the falsely advertised Perfect Soldier to my heart more than he'd already been. 

            "You ready to go, Duo?" he asked, offering my jacket and gloves. 

            "Heero, you're something else. I'm going to have to piss you off and get you to whip out the old shotgun and give me a nice, evil-sounding 'omae o korosu' before we leave here, because then I'll know the pod people haven't replaced you with a polite facsimile."

He chuckled quietly. "No pod people, and I don't carry a gun anymore. I've given it all up, Duo. I'm done being J's Perfect Soldier. I actually _like _being a civilian, odd as it sounds. But I promise I'll threaten your life, if it makes you feel any better."

I sighed. "You know, I doubt it will. I haven't even gone by the title God of Death since probably 196. Just haven't had it in me. Sure, if I feel like being anonymously charitable, I'll sign things as Shinigami, but I just don't have the heart to call myself God of Death in peacetime." 

            By the time we got down to the center of town, Quatre and the others were long gone, and there wasn't much hope of finding them. The streets were crowded with families, happy families enjoying the Christmas lights and the rows upon rows of neat little white paper bags, candles flickering within them to give them their cheery glow. 

            "Looks like it's you and me, Heero," I observed, glancing around, just in case. 

Heero nodded, wiping his glasses off with the end of his gray fleece scarf. "That's all right. Maybe now Trowa and Quatre can stop being stupid."

            "The day that happens is the day Wufei stops trying to pick fights with Sally."

The two of us walked down the chill streets, snow still blustering in swirling crystalline flurries. The luminaries glowed merrily, casting the streets with a golden sheen. Homes along the main drag were open, as were many of the churches and the historical society buildings. The ones we ventured into were crowded, touting hot cider and store-bought cookies that were long gone, despite the luminary event starting only ten minutes ago. I think we passed Dorothy and Hilde at one point, but it was too dark to tell. We spoke little, but I didn't mind, the silence was just as welcome. Somewhere towards the line for the carriage rides, a school choir was lending their voices. 

"Green and silver, red and gold, and the story born of old. Peace and love and hope abide, this Christmastide. Holly, ivy, mistletoe, and the gently falling snow. Peace and love and hope abide, this Christmastide…"

Heero nodded in their direction. "Kind of makes you feel important, knowing that we gave our lives and our souls so that kids like them could sing about peace, huh?"

            "Yeah. I'm glad I suggested this party thing to Quatre."

My blue-eyed companion glanced around, looking as though he were searching for something. 

            "Heero? Something up?"

            "I think there's a Catholic church about three blocks from here, if you're interested in having mass," he stated, pointing to where the sound of glad Christmas bells was emanating, pealing out across the L4 colony. 

            "Could we? I mean, you don't have to go if you don't want to, I know you're not Catholic or anything but…it'd really mean a lot to me if I at least went and…"

He nodded. "You're running at the mouth, and I'd like to go with you, if that's all right."

I consented and we took off towards the sound of the bells. In our brisk jog we flew past Quatre and Trowa, shouting greetings of the season in passing. To my faint disappointment, the church we found was Episcopal, not Catholic. 

            "It's not Catholic," Heero pointed out, kind of glumly. "Sorry about that, Duo."

I tried to hide my frown, replacing it with my mask of annoying jubilance. "It's okay, Heero! Let's go in anyways! After all, Episcopal is the lazy man's Catholic!"

We arrived just in time for the seven o'clock service, the processional hymn still on introduction. Heero and I slipped into an empty pew in the back, fumbling with the hymnals and joining in feebly with the hymn. I happened to notice, halfway through the second verse of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear," that one of the chalice bearers was smiling at me. She wasn't much older than I am, I don't think. 

            "Hey, check out the chalice chick," I whispered to Heero. "Kind of cute."

He coughed, trying to conceal his laughter. "I thought you weren't into women."

            "I play both ends of the…where did you hear that from? I haven't told anyone except for Hilde and…Quatre. That little…"

Heero shook his head. "Not Quatre. I've just known."

The chalice bearing girl rose and read the First Lesson in a clear, commanding voice that probably wouldn't have needed a microphone if it hadn't already been there. I have to admit, she was kind of cute. 

            "So you've known I'm bi…or at least the gay half of that, and yet you never told me? Thanks a lot, Heero," I sulked, not paying any attention whatsoever to the choir overhead. 

            "I'm telling you now, Duo. Because, believe or not, I am."

I swear, if we hadn't not gotten to communion yet, I would've choked on the wafer and died. I'm not dreaming this, am I? I _did _hear Heero Yuy just tell me he was bisexual, right? I'm starting to think Christmas miracles aren't just the figments of network executives and Jehovah's Witnesses after all. 

            "Heero?"

He glanced up at me, glasses slipping again, an expression of coy naiveté on his face. 

            "The reason Trowa's never said anything to Quatre…other than being afraid of rejection, is because he didn't get the chance to. He told me the other night that he planned on proposing to Quatre last Christmas, but when he had the accident, not only did he lose the ring…he'd had it on a chain around his neck that snapped when he hit the ground…but he was in a coma until Groundhog Day. He's been saving up to buy a new ring for this Christmas. I don't have as good an excuse as that. I've just been afraid."

            "Duo, what are you saying?"

            "I _like _you, Heero. I know we can't have one of those warm and fuzzy relationships like Quatre and Trowa…I think it'd be kind of odd for us to have one of those warm and fuzzy relationships…but I want us to have something. I'll understand if you've already got somebody who's making you happy, but…"

He leaned over and whispered, "If I didn't think it was sacrilegious, I'd make out with you here and now. _You _make me happy, Duo. And it took me four years to realize that. That's why I went away, so I could figure that out."

            He had tears in his eyes when he told me this. He can deny it all he wants, but I could see them sparkling in the candlelight. I'll admit, he sounded a little corny when he told me that I made him happy, but Heero isn't the most emotional of us, so I'll give him props for effort. Besides, he just made me the happiest former Gundam Pilot in the colonies…aside from Quatre, who got proposed to in the middle of the street about three blocks away, but that's a totally different story. 

            I've changed my mind about Christmas completely. After today, I don't think I can ever hate such a holiday again. The peace and joy that the five of us have so long been denied can finally enter our hearts. And I'm not just saying that because I got what I wanted for Christmas either. Petty disagreements were put aside, loved ones grew closer together, and old rivals became friends. Somehow, we were all whacked with the Christmas spirit. 

            Dorothy got up extra early and made coffee and those instant cinnamon rolls from a can, which we tore into before attacking the massive pile of gifts under the equally massive tree. The rest of our company arrived early, early enough to see us all still in our pajamas, throwing wrapping paper and ribbon about like a bunch of kids. Mariemaia didn't seem to mind, she joined in with as much gusto as the rest of us, while Lady Une sat back with a cup of coffee. 

            "Lady Une, Ma'am, there are quite a few gifts under the tree with your name on them," Sally remarked, depositing the stack of presents where a coffee table should have been. Lady Une looked a little misty in the eyes, but maintained her cool composure. 

Sylvia Noventa arrived at the same time as Catherine Bloom, Abdul, Auda and Rashid, Iria Winner shortly after that. 

            "Master Quatre! Look at you! We leave you on your own for a couple of years and you grow up on us!" Auda cried, embracing his young master tightly. 

            "It's good to see all of you," Quatre replied, smiling radiantly. "Especially with the news I have." That was when he showed everyone his engagement ring and recounted the whole story, with Trowa sitting quietly on the floor, nursing his third cup of coffee. 

Sylvia sat down beside Heero. "Hello, Heero. I'm glad to see that you're looking well."

            "Sylvia. How is the rest of your family?"

She smiled. "We're well, thank you. Grandmother got very excited when I told her I was having Christmas dinner with you."

Catherine and Iria immediately started berating their brothers on not hooking up sooner, causing all of us to snicker behind hands at the injustice of being verbally flogged. 

            Relena arrived just as we were sitting down to dinner, and everyone got up to greet her as she was ushered in by one of Quatre's staff members. Although I can't say I care for her much, Relena has become a fairly lovely young woman. She's lost a lot of that girly look, and has matured considerably since we last spoke with her face-to-face. 

            "Hello everyone, Merry Christmas. I trust all of you are in good health," she said genially. "I spoke with my brother and sister-in-law this morning, they're now the proud parents of a beautiful little boy, Walker. They send their greetings."

Sally was crying, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. "A little boy, oh he must be gorgeous."

            "Woman," Wufei muttered. "You're always getting emotional over such things."

            "Um, if it's all right with you, Quatre, I'd like to say a few words before we eat," Relena requested. Quatre glanced over at me, as I am the one in charge of this whole shindig, believe it or not, and I nodded. 

            "Of course, Miss Relena."

She cleared her throat politely. "I just wanted to say that it is so wonderful to see everyone together again, and happy. Your kind hearts were the greatest casualties of the war, and it pained me to see all of you in such abysmal spirits this time every year. You are the greatest treasures the Earth Sphere has to offer, and I owe my life and my gratitude to each and every one of you. Bless the meal we are about to partake in, and the company we keep. You are truly wonderful people, and I am forever grateful that I can call you my friends. God bless all of you."

Dry eyes were the casualty of that little speech, and even the most stoic among us was admittedly wiping at their eyes. 

            Dinner was amazing, and why wouldn't it be, when Hilde and Dorothy were in charge of it? I don't think I've seen a ham bigger than the one they served, bigger than even yours truly, and I admit, I'm a pretty big ham. Abdul grinned over his glasses at Quatre after we'd all been served. 

            "Jeez, I hope you and Master Trowa like ham sandwiches, Master Quatre, because I think you'll be eating plenty of those for the next few weeks."

Quatre groaned. "Oh Allah, I don't even want to think about it. Take some home with you, please!"

            After we were stuffed to explosion, Trowa opened up his gallery and showed off some of his works-in-progress. I was surprised at how few of our numbers knew that he painted, I thought it was common knowledge. Relena was highly impressed by the set of eight-by-tens commissioned by the Historical Society. 

            "So these will all be portraits of key figures in the war…like Treize and the five of you?" she asked. 

            "And you as well, Relena," he replied humbly. "They're calling it the 'Gundam Wing' set, after Heero's suit. Personally I think it should be the 'Gundam Heavyarms' set, but I'm just the painter."

            "Well, I think they're just beautiful."

And while the representatives from the Maguanac Corps brewed the 'perfect pot of coffee' (they wouldn't let anyone else near the coffee pot, told us we did not understand the meaning of the word 'coffee'), Hilde ran up to her room giggling like a maniac. She returned with a huge wad of plastic mistletoe, which she waved over her head, chasing everyone around the room. 

            "Come on, pucker up, Wufei! You know you love me!"

            "Onna! You're drunk on eggnog! Argh, get the hell away from me! Kisama!"

In the end, most of the male populous kissed Hilde, and a few of the girls as well, just to be nice. The party lasted until late into the evening, though most of the guests had departed around suppertime. Soon it was just the five of us, Hilde, Sally, Catherine, Abdul, and Iria. Abdul and Cathy went to bed fairly early, though sleeping was probably low on their priority list. Hilde was unconscious on the couch, her mistletoe fallen on the floor. 

            Iria picked it up and tossed it at Trowa, who looked half-dead himself. Quatre picked it up and dangled it over him, kissing his fiancé gently. 

            "Merry Christmas, Trowa. Thank you for being the best present ever."

He nodded wearily and snuggled Quatre close, whipping the plastic plant in my general direction. "There you go, Duo. Go nuts."

Heero was scrutinizing the massive heap of presents that was apparently his. I dangled over my head in appropriate mistletoe position, and whistled. 

            "Sacrilege away, Mister Yuy."

Heero got up slowly and cautiously, a funny smirk on his face. He ambled his way over and wrapped an arm about my waist. And then he pulled out one of those stupid foam dart guns and put the barrel to my forehead. 

            "Omae o korosu, Duo."

And he kissed me. I'd go into details, but I don't remember anything beyond having Heero Yuy's tongue in my mouth. Or was it mine in his? Oh well, whatever. I got what I wanted out of this Christmas: my dear, lovely Heero and joy for my fellow pilots. I suppose we never really lost that Christmas spirit those years after the war. We must have merely misplaced it among the rubble of ruined childhoods and mobile suits. Maybe I did call myself the God of Death and destroyed lives with a smile in the past, maybe I was a scruffy vagabond with no hope and no future. But this Christmas has taught me that no matter how many mistakes I can make in life, there will always be another chance waiting for me, because that's what Christmas is about, new beginnings and second chances. It took a long time coming, but the sermons Father Maxwell preached each year have finally hit home. And Solo, if you're listening up there, my Christmas angel, someday happened, buddy. Someday happened in a big way. Merry Christmas, to you and yours, from me and mine. 

Love Always, 

            Duo Maxwell

Just a few notes from the real author. The song that Duo and Heero heard at the luminary night is one my school's Select Choir performed at their winter concert. The girl at the church, that's me. I'm certified as a chalice bearer at my church, St. John's, an Episcopal church. I'll be serving communion at our seven PM service Christmas Eve. And while I doubt our coffee table will go up in flames, my dad has a plum pudding all ready for tonight as well. 

_Peace, and love, and hope abide this Christmastide. Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year. _

_With the love and joy of the season, _

_            Kawaii Li'l Lia_


End file.
